


Chaos at Sea

by TessaTheLessa



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: M/M, Murder, Running Away, SO, i actually dont know what to tag, like straight up murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessaTheLessa/pseuds/TessaTheLessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the unit's eyes, it was pure, coldhearted murder. </p>
<p>In Anthony's eyes, it was torture. </p>
<p>(PLEASE READ THE BEGINNING NOTE BEFORE ACTUALLY READING THE FANFIC OMG PLS)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaos at Sea

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY LISTEN HERE GUISE. This is a story that is directly connected to one of my other fanfictions titled "Dirty Job". If you haven't read it, I recommend you do before you even tHINK about reading this story, because without the knowledge of Dirty Job, you'll most likely be completely lost and will 100% be exposed to major story spoilers. So please, PLEASE, read the big one before reading this story, it will seriously help you understand what the heck is going on in this shit storm.
> 
> For those of you who know exactly what you're getting yourselves into: YEAH. I KNOW. I SAID I WOULD HAVE THIS OUT LIKE, A MONTH AGO. But listen, I get super distracted, okay? u shut ur pretty lil mouth.
> 
> Regardless the reason, yes, this story is extremely late, as well as the other fics I had planned to release after the ending of Dirty Job. I apologize to those of you who were invested in this story, and I hope you're still excited to read this. SPEAKING OF, I realize this is like, sooooo much longer than any chapter I've written before. I'm sorry about that. BUT, I guarantee you, it will be worth the read if you're invested in these series of fics. 
> 
> ANOTHER NOTE: there will probably be quite a few errors and what not around the fic. If you feel the need to call me out on it, go ahead! Much appreciated <3 Also!! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TAGS TO PUT ON THIS! Any tags you want me to add, just throw them at me, and I'll totes put them in.
> 
> There will be a little farewell at the ending if you care about seeing that, and as always, I hope ye enjoy! <3

Anthony listens to Evan and Adam leave, slowly moving towards the front door and locking both locks. His hands are trembling the slightest, and he rubs them together slowly in a weak attempt to calm down. He feels so _awful,_ arms and legs weak as he shuffles himself back towards the couch. His eyes catch on the folded piece of paper, innocently sat on the couch cushion below him. He hesitantly reaches a hand down and takes it between his fingers, turning it around a few times in his fingers. Anthony's eyes never leave the paper as he sits down in it's place, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping an arm around them slowly.

 

So many things nag and buzz around inside his head, each one bringing with both good and bad feelings. It's hard for him to concentrate on just one thing, causing him to zone out while staring at the small paper. His finger tips are numb, and he's barely able to feel the paper twirling between the digits.

 

He believes everything Adam has said to him. Every little thing about how Terroriser is going after everyone else. He believes that Adam _really_ wants to save him. Anthony knows he needs to trust him, because that wasn't the normal Adam. Normal Adam just has such a good feeling surrounding him. He's always so giddy, but not tonight. Tonight, Adam just looked so _broken._ His eyes weren't how they used to be. They're dull, now, and Anthony hates it.

 

He doesn't know how long he sits there, staring at the folded paper. His choices bounce around wildly in his head, and it takes a lot of work for him to properly think each of them through. But in the end, everything just brings up too many concerns or paranoid feelings, to the point where he has to just push his face into his knees, hiding the tears that slowly begin to climb out of his eyes. With deep breaths, he slowly pulls himself together, wiping away the tears that linger in his lashes as he sits up a bit straighter.

 

Fingers steadier than before, he opens the folded paper, reading over the messily written number on the inside. He recognizes it after a few reads over, and he slowly fishes his phone from his pants pocket, filing through his contacts until he comes across Adam. He compares the number he has saved and the one on the paper, raising an eyebrow when they're identical. Did Adam really think Chilled had deleted it? He supposes that would be a reasonable thing to believe in, seeing as how Adam betrayed him and all. Still, something about the thought of Adam believing that makes Anthony's stomach flip uncomfortably. Maybe he just thought that Adam thought of them to be closer than that.

 

All of this is making him sick. He feels so down, not even having enough energy to get up and move to his own bed. He tries to get some sort of rest on the couch, tossing his phone and the piece of paper onto the table, but has absolutely no luck. He's constantly tossing and turning, unable to close his eyes or lay still long enough to get any decent rest. If he does doze off, he's awoken with a jump at a sudden thought that just happens to force its way through his head.

 

He almost misses the alarm on his phone completely for work, dozing off heavily on the couch while it rings annoyingly. His eyes pop open, and he darts his arm out to grab onto his phone. He grouchily turns the alarm off, rubbing his dark eyes slowly to try and wake himself up. Anthony's very tempted to call into Sark and tell him he isn't feeling well enough to work, but he doesn't want to feel guilty about leaving the shop to Mini all day. It could be busy today, and he knows how annoying that could be to work by himself. If only Adam never left them, he wouldn't have to worry about leaving Mini alone. Then again, if Adam never left, he wouldn't even be feeling like this.

 

He slowly pushes himself off the couch, dragging himself to the kitchen and lazily beginning a pot of coffee. Once it begins brewing, he trudges to his bedroom, getting himself dressed for work. He only combs his fingers through his hair in a lame attempt to lay the strands down, too tired to actually try too hard. If he really looks that bad, Mini will find a way to fix it. He always does.

 

_How would Craig feel if I just left without telling him?_ Anthony asks himself. He shakes his head a bit, not wanting to think about things like that. Mini has become a really close friend since he started working at Ponsonby's, and the thought of just sort of leaving him behind makes him want to hurl. Then again, maybe Craig would leave if he didn't have Anthony working there with him, so he would be safer, right?

 

He begins to notice the absence of the coffee maker bubbling, and with a sigh, he drags himself right back to the kitchen. He glances around his house, frowning when he notices how _dark_ everything is now. He's read a lot of stories like this, where something really horrible happens to the protagonist, and everything around them just turns dull and smokey and dark. Anthony always personally thought it was a bit extreme, but now that he's actually been put through his own weird loop of emotions that are trying to slowly bring him into some painful, anxious void of _death,_ the dimness around him just seems fitting. It really brings the whole mood of the situation together.

 

Of course, none of this is to say that Anthony particularly _likes_ feeling so awful. It's just so interesting to him how a person's mood can effect how everything else around them seems. Thinking about the strange atmosphere does good with distracting him from obsessing over Adam, giving him a chance to get himself a mug of coffee to chug before slithering himself into his jacket, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his small backpack, then quickly head out to work.

 

He doesn't want to call a cab or take the bus today, so instead, he walks. Well, mostly, he walks, headphones loud in his ears. He makes it to Ammunation before he does Ponsonby's, and he huffs a bit when he sees Sark hasn't even opened up yet. He glances at his watch. _15 minutes late, old man._

 

He pulls his phone from his pocket, dialing for Sark as he leans against the shopkeeper's SUV. There are a few rings before he answers.

 

“ _Yeah?”_

 

“Why aren't you open? I thought you were really fucking picky about opening hours,” Anthony complains. There's a confused huff from the other line, and the sounds of shuffling.

 

“ _Oh. I didn't even realize the time. Where are you?”_ Sark asks, sounding as if he's beginning to move around.

 

“Outside,” Anthony replies plainly.

 

“ _Aren't you working today?”_

 

“Yeah. Detour.”

 

“ _Ehhh, I'll go ahead and give you a ride. I gotta drop something off at the Ponsonby's anyway. I'll be out in a bit.”_

 

Anthony gives the older a small hum of agreement before terminating the call, shoving his phone into his pocket as the music begins to play in his headphones again. Sudden questions begin to plague Anthony's mind, ranging from asking how Sark would take Chilled leaving with an enemy to how he would be able to avoid staying off of Sark's radar. Though, Sark knowing where the two are may not be such a bad thing. Sark would help them, wouldn't he? He can trust Sark. He knows he can.

 

The doors to the Ammunation open, and as Anthony expects, Sark exits the building, locking the doors before he makes his way to the younger. Sark has his big, goofy smile spread across his face, but Anthony doesn't have enough energy to smile back, and instead just climbs into the passenger seat. When Sark joins him, his smile is gone.

 

“You okay?” Sark asks, concern in his voice. Anthony only nods to him, pulling his seat belt over his body. “Anthony...”

 

“It's nothing,” Chilled waves off, but Sark insists. “It was just a long night, okay? That's all.”

 

With a huff, Sark gives up, pulling out of the parking lot and driving the short distance to Ponsonby's. The two hop out of the SUV once it's parked, and the two are greeted warmly by the Brit behind the front counter, who is still working to get everything ready for opening. Sark exchanges a few words with Mini as Chilled passes the two, slipping himself into the break room and tossing his bag next to Craig's. There's a coffee from one of his and Craig's favorite get together spots on the counter, still steaming from being so fresh, with the name Anthony written on the side of it messily with a sharpie. Chilled takes the coffee, smiling when he takes a sip and notices it's just how he likes it.

 

He hears Craig hollering a goodbye to Sark, and Chilled groans a bit, taking his phone from his pocket and texting a small thank you to the older for the ride. Craig's head pops into the break room, a smile on his face, and Anthony looks up. Craig's face falls when Anthony does, stepping more into the room.

 

“Are you alright?” Mini asks him. Anthony sighs a bit and gives him a small nod, taking another drink of the coffee.

 

“Just fine. Thank you for the coffee.”

 

“Yeah... Are you sure you're fine? You look... upset.”

 

“Perfect,” Chilled shrugs.

 

Mini pauses for a moment. “Does it have to do with Evan leaving last night?”

 

“Craig, I really just...” Anthony sighs a bit, running his fingers through his hair. Mini nods a bit, moving to his own backpack and pulling a small comb from one of the side pockets.

 

“Let me at least make you look presentable. We're gonna open in a few.”

 

\- --- - ---- - ----- -

 

Craig is really a life saver, in Anthony's eyes. Craig understood that whatever happened to Chilled last night is all for Anthony, and not for himself. He didn't nag Chilled about it all day like he normally would if it was just a silly secret Anthony was just trying to keep on the down low, and even went the extra mile to keep Chilled distracted throughout the day as to not let anything upset Anthony. He couldn't be more thankful, but even with how happy Craig is making the air around him, Anthony can't help but feel awful for leaving him.

 

Anthony huffs as he finishes with organizing the clothing he's in front of, smiling at the lad behind the counter as he moves to the back. The store is officially closed, and now it's just a matter of making everything look neat enough for them to leave. It's the easiest part, really.

 

“Soooo,” Mini sings as he steps into the break room, moving around Anthony as he gathers his own things. “Are you free tonight? We could get some pizza or something. Or we could all have game night with the boys?”

 

Anthony smiles softly at the lad, patting his hands softly on the counter that's there. “I got some job-job stuff to work on.. Sorry, Craig.”

 

“Laaaaame,” Craig whines, shifting his bag on his shoulders. He hands Anthony his things, and Anthony takes them, quickly putting it on his shoulder.

 

The pair walk together down the block, making jokes between each other as if it wasn't the last time they were going to see each other. Of course, Craig doesn't know this, and only assumes that tomorrow, the two will get to have the same routine together they had today. Chilled can't tell Craig the decisions he's made, no matter how much he desperately wants to. He's not looking forward to having to potentially hurt Craig's feelings. Anthony has done nothing but battle with himself all day over how he should deal with leaving his friend, but in the end, he has to just treat it like a band aid.

 

When it comes time for the two to part ways, Anthony finds it hard to not just follow Craig home and hide in his room forever. He doesn't want to be alone, it only gives his thoughts a chance to really get to him. Gives them a chance to nag and chew at him, not even able to be drowned out by music or games. He spends a majority of his time once he's gotten home just laying down, fiddling with the piece of paper with the scribbled number on it that he's had in his back pocket all day. He already knows he wants to call Adam, to get him to come take him away, but he just doesn't _want_ to without his friends. Anthony is too close to his friends around him to just completely drop them and leave them out here to potentially die at the hands of Terroriser.

 

But his faith in their strength and problem solving skills leads Anthony to firmly believe that in his absence, Terroriser will be taken care of, and he and Adam will be able to return to the city and live as though none of this had ever happened. Except for Adam's relationship with nearly everyone else on their team. _That,_ is definitely something they'd need to work on before everyone will be completely comfortable as one unit again. Though, this all will require very delicate baby steps. Ones that Anthony is more than willing to take to get everyone safe and together as one once more.

 

Nearly an hour after he's gotten home from work and glued himself straight to the couch, Anthony drags himself to his bedroom, peeling the work outfit from his body and folding them neatly before shoving himself into loose pajama pants, and a dark undershirt, just to try and give himself some comfort. The folded clothes, he puts in his dresser, just where the identical ones are stored, and glancing into the drawer, Anthony feels some sort of ping in his chest. All of these are specifically for going to work. Craig is only a bit smaller than him, maybe he could get Adam to drop them off for the lad just before they make their great escape.. They shouldn't go to waste, really.

 

He pushes the drawer closed, sucking in a deep breath as he takes a quick glance around. He's suddenly being clouded by a dark, jittery feeling, sending an uncomfortable chill up his spine. His skin begins itching, and he slowly leans back against his dresser, arms crossed loosely across his chest and hands stroking anxiously at his skin. Why is he feeling like this? Everything's fine. Everything is _just fine,_ there's no need to feel like this. Just-

 

“Shake it off,” Anthony whispers to himself, pushing himself completely to his feet. He's sill for a moment, standing in complete silence, before he slowly move his feet towards his bathroom. A shower would help, definitely... _Warm shower.._

 

It's while Anthony is standing tense beneath the hot water that the horrible feeling attacks him once more, looming over him tighter than it had before. It makes him shiver, even beneath the warmth, and he finds it harder to breathe as he continues to turn the water hotter. He's soon driven out of the shower and back into his previous attire, a towel draped loosely around his shoulders, and into his bedroom.

 

The feeling never leaves him, and in a last attempt to distract himself, he crawls onto his bed with his phone and a folded piece of paper clutched tight in his hand. He buries himself under the covers, pillow hugged tight to his chest, aimlessly scrolling through a website he's not even too sure the name of. He isn't even focusing on the words or pictures, merely slowly scrolling to the bottom of the page, clicking on a random link and repeating the process. He's doing a horrible job on distracting himself, he's decided, and on sudden impulse, he scrolls through his contacts until he comes across Adam.

 

He unfolds the paper, comparing the numbers once more. They're still identical, as he thought, and he glances to the time. It's nearing ten at night. Adam should answer... Right?

 

He clicks the call button and sucks in a breath, holding it as he places the phone to his ear. Each ring gives him a drop of panic in his stomach, and he almost groans at himself to calm down before the ringing ends. He stares at the wall ahead of him, holding his breath as he hears the familiar voice rip through the silence softly.

 

“ _Hello?”_ Adam asks.

 

“Hi,” Anthony breathes softly, deciding it best to just get it over with quickly. “Can you... Visit, tonight?”

 

“ _Oh! Y-Yeah! Definitely, yes... But...”_ Adam lowers his voice, sounding as though he's muffling himself. _“It'll be pretty late, alright..? I have to still.. Y'know. I'll be there in few hours, though, okay?”_

 

“Okay,” Anthony agrees, clutching the pillow tighter.

 

“ _Anthony.. Are you sure?”_

 

“Why wouldn't I be?” Anthony questions. Adam only hums softly.

 

“ _I'll be by.”_

 

The second he phone call ends, the jitters and paranoia and horrible feelings come back all at once, hitting him harder than they have been. What the fuck is going on, everything is so fine. Everything is so perfect he's going to be safe with Adam like he's been wanting to. He'll be fine.

 

But Adam is a traitor. He was never on Anthony's side to begin with. He's always been with Brian. He's been _playing you like a fool, Anthony. All of you. This is a trick, you know. He's going to kill you tonight, and then he'll kill Sark. You're going to die tonight._

 

“Stop!” Anthony yelps into the empty room, closing his eyes tight. His head dips down to bury his face into the pillow he's been holding tight to, trying to keep the frightened tears from escaping his eyes. Adam wouldn't do this. He's being sincere. He's not a bad guy, and Anthony knows this. He knows Adam better than Sark probably does. If anything, Adam is going to kill him by being too protective. Yeah, that's how.

 

_\- --- - ---- - ----- -_

 

All night, the horrible cloud never lifts from Anthony, no matter what he does to try and distract himself or rid himself completely from it. Video games, making himself food that he never actually eats, trying to read one of his books. None of it works. His body is in a constant, depressing ache, leaving him feeling tired and sluggish. He just wants to feel better. He just wants the horrible feelings to go _away._

 

The worst part happens more often as time goes by. There's a voice that nags at him, softly at first, right in the back of his head, threatening to slowly drive him completely insane. It started off as only little bits and pieces of the same phrases that he would catch in the background of the other noises from time to time, giving him chills up his spine every time he hears it. It's unnerving for him to hear someone that isn't there, and it makes him wonder if he's _okay_ enough to leave yet. But these voices and feelings are all so sudden that he manages to convince part of himself that it's just the side effects of his last minute jitters for leaving.

 

But the part of himself that he isn't able to convince as such is in a constant panic, causing him to feel sick and paranoid and completely lost. He feels like the voice is right; Adam is going to kill him tonight. Anthony is just giving himself up to him to do so. But even feeling like that's the truth, he doesn't feel the urge to cancel with Adam. He wants to see Adam again, whether he'll be in danger or not. He _has_ to.

 

Anthony eventually worries himself right to sleep on his couch by accident, curled up into a tight ball underneath a light blanket. He had changed into a loose, long sleeved shirt sometime during his wait in an attempt to ward off the chills, though it never worked, hence the small blanket. The television is on a soft volume, a random show playing through the quiet house, and his phone is still lazily clutched in his hand, which he was using to check the time every now and then as he waited for Adam to come.

 

The last time he remembers seeing is near half past midnight before he passes out, only to be awoken by the phone violently buzzing in his palm. It startles him from his sleep, and he blinks drowsily, glancing at the bright screen through the darkened living room. Adam's name is flashing across the phone, and with a glance at the top of the screen, he sees he's been asleep nearly two hours.

 

“Yeah?” Anthony huffs softly into the phone, scrambling to turn off the T.V and shuffle out of his spot on the couch.

 

“ _Hey..”_ Adam's voice says softly. _“So... I'm here, if you wanna get your door for me..”_

 

“Totally,” Anthony agrees politely, dragging himself with his phone to the front door, unlocking the bolt. There's a soft “Thank You” from the other end, and before Anthony knows it, the call has ended. He drops his hand slowly, just staring at the door, until the knob turns softly.

 

He takes a nervous step back, watching as the front door is carefully pushed open, and Adam's familiar face pokes inside. The cloud of paranoia and anxiety seems to vanish when Anthony notices the soft, warming smile tugging lightly at Adam's lips, and Chilled invites the other inside.

 

There's a strangely comfortable silence between the two as they stand face to face _alone_ for the first time since... _That_ store trip happened. Really, to Anthony, it feels as though that store trip _never_ happened.

 

“So,” Adam speaks softly, his hands nervously wringing around themselves. “You want to come with..”

 

“Yeah,” Chilled agrees again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I think its a bit clear, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Adam agrees. A loving smile appears on Adam's face as he watches the other, and it doesn't even fade when Anthony gives him a questioning look. “Sorry... I'm just really happy you aren't mad enough at me that you're like... yelling and stuff. Also, you're kinda adorable.”

 

Anthony rolls his eyes a bit, a small smile on his lips. “You're such a dweeb.”

 

“Are you ready to get going?” Adam asks. “We need to get you some stuff to take with..”

 

Anthony nods softly, leading his friend to his bedroom. Per Adam's request, Chilled pulls the rarely used suitcase from the bottom of his closet and opens it up on his bed, working with Adam on grabbing some of his essentials and packing them away neatly.

 

The pair is completely silent, but it's comfortable. There's still an anxious feeling that seems to bubble in Anthony's stomach every so often, but he ignores it for the most part, only focusing on quickly folding his clothing and packing it away. This is such an odd thing for him to be doing; Getting up last minute and leaving the state- hell, maybe even the _country_ \- with someone. But he feels like this is something he should do. For himself, and for Adam.

 

There's a light hand on his shoulder, and he glances back to see Adam standing close behind, watching Chilled folding the garments. He gives the other a soft smile, and Adam returns it.

 

“Chilled, I'm kinda glad you decided to come with,” Adam says quietly to the other. “I know it's probably weird.. Because of my whole weird affiliation confusion and stupid shit and all of this--”

 

He cuts himself off with a sigh when he notices Chilled's faded smile, and the two only eye each other for a silent moment. Anthony doesn't want to think anymore about the possible outcomes. He just wants to go. To be safe.

 

_He'll kill you._

 

Anthony places the shirt he's been working on folding into the case, facing himself towards Adam and gently snaking his arms around Adam's waist. He feels the other tightly hug him in return, and the two stay locked for a good few moments, until Anthony moves to whisper in Adam's ear.

 

“Are we safe?”

 

There's a second of silence as Adam's arms only tighten around Anthony. Soon, the other nods, mumbling softly to the other, “I really hope so..”

 

There's another drop of anxiety as Anthony nuzzles his face softly into the other's shoulder, resisting to shiver comfortably when Adam pulls him even closer. It's been entirely too long since the two have been able to see each other as they normally do, and even longer since they've shown any sort of physical affection towards one another. It makes him feel safe, in some weird way, and a thought suddenly pops up in his mind.

 

“Canada?” Anthony asks softly, pulling away just enough to look up to the other. “I have people there who can help us.”

 

“If that's what you want,” Adam shrugs. “You sure they can help?”

 

Anthony nods softly, smiling at the fingers stroking his lower back through his baggy shirt. “I'll have to do some digging and make a few calls, but we'll be safe. Speaking of calls...”

 

Anthony reluctantly slips from out of Adam's arms, only to retrieve his phone from his dresser and return to Adam, pressing himself against the other's chest so Adam has no choice but to wrap his arms around him once again. Adam's looking Anthony over with a quizzical look, and Chilled sighs.

 

“I have to at least tell Sark that I'm not dying,” Chilled explains. “You understand... He's like... Dad.”

 

“I know,” Adam sighs, an uncertain look on his face. “I agree.... But make it vague, please? Not to be rude.... But...”

 

Anthony shushes Adam with a hand over the other's mouth, and Adam only rolls his eyes, watching Chilled dial for the shopkeeper. As Anthony expected, it goes straight to voicemail, giving Chilled his chance.

 

“Okay! Sark, hi..” Chilled takes a deep breath, leaning into the hand that's giving his hair soft strokes. “Okay, this is really stupid.. Like, _really_ fucking stupid. And I really don't want you to worry about anything, okay? But, I'm leaving.. As in, Los Santos. Hell, maybe even the United States. And, hopefully, I won't be coming back. Maybe for a visit. But it won't be for a _really really_ long time.. I also can't contact you at all... Not until I know I'm clear.”

 

Anthony casts his eyes to the floor, feeling another wave of uneasiness wash over him until he feels soft kisses on the top of his head. He smiles, glancing up to Adam. “I'll be okay, because I have someone with me, and they're gonna help me. Please, don't do anything dumb, and... Have fun, okay? I'll talk to you on the other side, whenever that is... Bye..”

 

Chilled ends the call, tossing the device onto his bed silently. Nanners watches, a soft frown on his face, but he chooses not to say anything. Not for a few moments.

 

“We should get going..” Adam says softly. Chilled nods, turning back to his suitcase and quickly beginning to put the final touches on his packing job.

 

It's after a silent few moments that the two are completely frozen by the sound of Chilled's front door casually opening and closing again, sending the worst case of panic surging through Chilled's body. He whips his head around to look at Adam, and he shrinks back, trying not to make a startled sound when the other wraps a hand tightly around Anthony's elbow.

 

“Hide over there,” Adam says quietly, gesturing to the opposite side of the room. Anthony can only stare. Adam was just so loving and affectionate, but now, he's... Cold. He's so tense, his pupils wide as he glances between Anthony's cracked bedroom door, and the confused Italian beside him. Chilled wants desperately to ask Adam what the deal is, but with how _terrified_ Adam is looking, Anthony feels like he might not have the chance.

 

So, instead of questioning it, Anthony quickly, yet quietly, makes his way around the bed, eyes never leaving Adam as he rubs softly where the strong grip just was on his arm. Anthony knows he should be afraid, but of _what?_ What's going on that Adam knows about that Anthony doesn't?

 

Anthony's questions are answered when he sees an all too familiar shade of blue move in through the cracked door, dirty hockey mask turned right towards him. In a quick motion, Jonathan's arm flies up, pointing a shotgun right towards Anthony as Jon lets out a breathy laugh.

 

“Slide yours towards me,” Jon says, muffled behind the mask. “Or he's gone.”

 

Anthony's breath is caught in his throat, and he's so taken aback by the gun trained on him that he doesn't notice Adam grouchily placing his own pistol on the floor, kicking it towards the psychopath (Really, he didn't even know Adam had a gun on him at all). Anthony can only assume the worst is happening, and really, he sees little to no way away from this. His mind has gone completely blank out of fear, and he doesn't realize he's been holding his breath until Jon directs the shotgun towards Adam, cold eyes still staring right at the Italian.

 

“You probably have nothin',” Jon observes, more to himself than to the other two. “Not like you ever do..”

 

“Jonathan,” Anthony says cautiously, his arms crossed tight across his chest. _Just talk through it. Negotiations. Its what you're good at._ “May I-”

 

“Don't even try your bullshit with me,” Delirious shoots him down, making Chilled flinch back in fear. “You just need to wait your turn, 'cause you know this ain't gonna take long.”

 

“Stop,” Adam pleas quietly, his voice small and broken. “This isn't about him, Delirious, okay, just.. Leave him out.”

 

Jonathan laughs a little bit, turning all of his attention to Adam. “Oh, so you already know what this is about? That sure does save me a good deal of explainin'... What about him? He know?”

 

“Leave him out of this,” Adam says, glaring when all Jon does is laugh. “Jonathan!!”

 

“Suck my dick, bitch!” Delirious cackles, gesturing towards his own crotch with a small thrust of his hips. “I ain't listenin' to your pussy ass, 'Ohh, he's my darling and I love him please don't kill him' shit! It's annoying. Besides, I'm gettin' some big bucks for taking out the trash, aight? You can't get in the way of a man and his precious stacks.”

 

Anthony trembles as he stands alone at the other side of the room from the two, his hands shakily running through his hair. This is bad, this is _so_ fucking bad. This is so bad, Anthony can hear a distant voice once again, mumbling evilly into his ear _He's going to kill you._

 

His hands run through his hair once more, this time stopping to press into his ears in a lame attempt to ward off the pestering voice. He doesn't need it making this situation worse. Though, he doesn't quite believe that the voice it what will make it worse. _Jonathan,_ will make this worse.

 

“I don't think Sark plays by the same rules Terroriser does,” Delirious states, still muffled by his hockey mask. “If there's a little rat in his party, snitchin' on people and deciding to take a little vay-cay with some shitty street bitch, he wants it exterminated. And boy, let me tell you, he'll _get_ that extermination any way he can. I think Sark's a bit too fucking soft for that.”

 

“Stop it, for fucks sake, Delirious, leave him be!” Adam demands, more angry this time rather than scared. “Please, please, Jonathan, whatever he's paying you, please, I'll pay more if you just leave us alone...”

 

Delirious makes small sounds, childishly imitating Adam's pleas. He groans afterwards, shifting the shotgun in his hand, but still not taking it from aiming at Adam.

 

“You're so fucking pathetic!” Delirious taunts. “Why would you want your last words to be you begging for your life?? You could be saying something fucking awesome with your last chance, but you gotta make it all fucking worthless.”

 

Jonathan steps a bit closer to Adam, watching the other take a step back. “You don't even wanna tell Anthony how much you love him?” Delirious asks quietly, though still loud enough to be heard by Anthony. “How much you're sorry for ruinin' his life? You're so horrible, Adam. Good thing you won't be around for long.”

 

Chilled can see Adam's brave mask slipping from his face. Adam has tears in his eyes, his hands are visibly shaking, and he can't tear his eyes away from Delirious. Anthony has to do _something,_ but what can he do? Jonathan won't even give him a chance to get out more than a couple of words, and Anthony has never really been the strongest individual in their party. He's so _useless._

 

“Go on,” Jonathan urges, glancing back at Anthony. “Tell him.”

 

“Anthony, I love you, and I'm really fucking sorry for this,” Adam says softly, eyes locking with the other. Anthony can't do anything but stare into Adam's fear filled eyes. This was _not_ how he wanted his and Adam's first “I love you” to go.

 

The voice is back, screaming at Anthony to just run, leave the two. But as quickly as it tells him to run, it tells him to accept the fact that he's dying tonight, and to just roll with it. Anthony can't think past the confusing voice, and his hands grip softly as his hair, eyes glued to Adam.

 

_We're going to die._

 

“Delirious, please-”

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Jonathan suddenly yells. The last portion of his sentence is drowned out by an echoing boom that fills the room, rattling the window and causing Anthony's body to jerk.

 

Anthony can't hold down the horrified scream that jumps from his throat, and he's quick to slap his hands over his mouth, trying to stop the sound. He slams himself back against the wall and slides to the ground, knees pressed tight against his chest, his eyes squeezed shut so tight it's painful. He can't help it anymore. He lets the terrified sobs escape his lips only to be muffled by his hands, tears spilling from his eyelids. He shouldn't have called Adam.

 

“Pathetic,” he hears Delirious mumble underneath his deep breaths and whimpers. Still, he doesn't open his eyes, even when he hears Delirious begin to move around. He's too scared of what he'll see.

 

“Sark, please, help me, for the love of fucking God,” Anthony begs into his hands, shrinking back when he hears a chuckle from directly above him. Still, he keeps his eyes shut.

 

“You think he'd be able to save you? I'm a fucking God, bitch.. Ain't no one getting' past me.”

 

Anthony can hear the psychopath kneeling in front of him, and all it does is make his bury his face into his knees. Jonathan shushes Chilled in the same way a mother would shush a crying child but Chilled shakes his head, whimpering into his hands again.

 

“C'mon now, open your eyes; Lookit your new decor,” Jonathan coos, grabbing a fistful of Anthony's hair from the top of his head and roughly pulling his head up, knocking it right back into he wall. The force is hard enough to drive a terrified cry from Anthony, and the Italian pops his eyes open, not once removing his hands from clasping tightly over his mouth.

 

His eyes immediately find the large, dark splatter coloring one of the walls opposite side of his bed, and he almost faints at the sight of it. Not only does the fact that there's what looks to be chunks of flesh and bone slowly sliding down the wall make him want to vomit, but so does the fact that it's all _Adam._ His eyes slowly trail down the wall, but much to his delight, the bed blocks his view of actually being able to see Adam's corpse. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

 

With one hand still covering his mouth, Anthony reaches his second hand up to grip tightly onto Delirious' wrist weakly trying to get him away. Delirious is either way too strong for his own good, or Anthony just isn't trying hard enough to get him off because Delirious doesn't even flinch, and only laughs a bit at Anthony's pathetic fighting.

 

It's now that Anthony realizes that the voice was completely right to begin with. He's going to die tonight. The one thing in life he was looking forward to the least, and _this_ is how it happens. It's completely silent in his head other than him telling himself he's going to die, and for once, he finds himself asking for the voice to come back. He doesn't want to die alone like this. Adam was with him, but with him _gone,_ Anthony is completely alone. He can't do this.

 

“I'd gladly keep you alive, Anthony, but...” Delirious shrugs. “Terroriser said both of you. Sorry. But hey! Now, you'll get to see Adam! And when I overthrow that motherfucker and become _The_ Kingpin of this fuckin' shithole, you'll get to see Sark, and Evan, and Lui, and alllllllll of your friends again! Exciting, right?”

 

Anthony only looks away, trying one more time to pull Jonathan's hand from his hair. This brings a disappointed huff from Delirious. “I don't like when they're quiet... But I guess it's fine. You aren't that important anyway.”

 

The hard barrel of the shotgun presses into the back of the hand across Chilled's mouth, and he hiccups, eyes following the metal all the way up Delirious' arms and to the cold, blue eyes behind the mask. He can see the smile changing the way Delirious' eyes are shaped, and it makes him shed just a few more terrified tears.

 

Then, finally.

 

Oh, finally.

 

The blast of white light, Anthony nor Adam were quite ready to see just yet.

 

\-----

 

“ _Just give me a call, and we'll be ready to help. And you'll keep your promise, Chilly Willy?”_

 

“ _Yes, Stevie. When you're in the clear, I'll come back to Canada, and we can have a reunion with the old crew. I promise, Stevie.”_

 

_I'm so fucking sorry, Stevie._

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot better in my head, really.
> 
> So, my tumblr is gotthat-miniladddclutch.tumblr.com, and there, I update when I write anything, do other art things, and FUN FACT I totally take requests!! Feel free to give me a little holler if you want :DD
> 
> Also, if you're wondering, YES, I do plan on completing all the fics I promised at the end of Dirty Job <3 I just suck at focusing. See you guys in the next of whatever I happen to write <333


End file.
